


I Feel Alive with Nowhere to go

by Harishe



Series: Holiday Discord Events [2]
Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Winter Soldier (Comics)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Choking, Fuck Or Die, Gags, Hostage Situations, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rope Bondage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:07:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27818008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harishe/pseuds/Harishe
Summary: HYDRA has taken up some very interesting torture tactics...
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton
Series: Holiday Discord Events [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2061204
Comments: 22
Kudos: 45
Collections: SSBB Kinkmas 2020





	I Feel Alive with Nowhere to go

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back on my bullshit. 
> 
> My prompts were _consensual non-con_ and _glory hole_.  
> Please enjoy!
> 
> Yooooo! My beta _shredded_ me! So thank you for making this hot mess understandable.

“Hey!” Clint shouted into the dimly lit room. “I appreciate the creativity with this one. I’ll be sure to leave a decent rating for that part,” he huffed as he pulled against his restraints again. “Although, you’re probably gonna be losing points for the comfort factor.”

Waking up somewhere strange wasn’t anything new to Clint - neither was waking up restrained, or even naked. Hell, even being tied to a wall wasn’t new. The part that was new, was the way he was tied to the wall. 

His front was pressed tightly against the wall, his head turned so the uneven pitting of the cement wall dug uncomfortably into his cheek. A rough jute rope looped once around his neck and kept him from pulling his face away. His hands had been tied behind his back, and his ankles had been spread slightly and tied with more of the coarse rope. Even when he didn’t struggle, it still made his skin itch.

Given enough time, Clint probably would’ve been able to work his way free, if it hadn’t been for the intricate knot that had been woven behind him, pinning him from shoulder to knee to the wall.

All that was odd, but the weirdest part for Clint was the hip-height piece of plywood on the wall that had provided numerous splinters already. The board flexed and warped as he pressed into it during his struggles, which had him considering how big of a hole it could be. Maybe it was large enough to crawl through. It was the item to get top marks for weirdness because his dick had been threaded through a hole in the middle of it.

Clint sighed heavily. His wrists were already so raw, they were on the cusp of bleeding already and he was sure his back was a wild pattern of irritated lines from his earlier struggles. 

“Can I at least get a cup of orange juice? Maybe a peanut butter sandwich?” Clint’s voice echoed behind him in the hollow room. It felt like he’d been here for hours, if the stiffness in his legs and burning in his shoulders were anything to go by.

The entire Avengers team had been sent to take down a Hydra base. Everyone was sent in with a partner to avoid this exact kind of situation. Whatever Hydra operative had gotten the drop on not just him, but also Bucky, Clint had to begrudgingly give them props.

He’d just opened his mouth to start yelling again, when the rope around his neck loosened on it’s own. Finally, he could pull his abused cheek from the wall. He still couldn’t turn to face the other direction, which would be amazing if he could actually _see_ anything that would help his predicament. 

The heavy door creaked ominously as Clint tilted his head back and forth in an attempt to stretch his neck. He fought the urge to try looking behind him again as the sound of footsteps bounced around the room.

“Oh man, I hope you’re here with my order; I am _parched_ ,” Clint said.

He’d barely gotten the words out when the footsteps stopped behind him and thick fingers threaded through his hair and pulled painfully, making him bite back a yelp. Clint’s head was angled so far back it sent shocks of pain through his neck and made it difficult to breathe properly. 

“I didn’t sign up for a scalp massa—” Clint’s witty repartee was cut short by the large hunk of silicone being shoved behind his teeth. The fingers released his hair and he immediately tried to shake the obstruction free, but he wasn’t able to make any progress before the straps he’d failed to notice were yanked back tightly and buckled at the back of his head. A motherfucking ballgag?

He chuffed out as many indignant noises as he could squeeze past the thing, but it did little good to persuade whoever had captured him to take it out. The footsteps receded and the door creaked and clanged heavily again, leaving him all on his own.

Clint pulled and strained against the ropes, managing to rub open a few spots on his wrists and ankles, but nothing else. 

He’d only just settled himself down when the rope around his neck pulled his cheek painfully into the wall again. Grunting, Clint did his best to find a slightly more bearable position when the rope around his neck tightened further, cutting off his air.

Wheezing, Clint did his best to keep calm and use this new motivation to unwind the knots that held him. Unfortunately, not a single one came loose, despite his growing need for air. He tensed the muscles in his neck and yanked angrily at his restraints.

 _This is it. This is how I finally die,_ he thought to himself as his lungs burned and his vision started to grow dim around the edges. _Tied to a fucking wall with my dick hanging out on the other side._

Fear began to set in when he couldn’t prevent the useless struggles against his bonds and the room started dimming further around the edges. Clint was sure that ‘stop being such a douche canoe’ were going to be his last words to Bucky when the rope loosened.

Coughing violently, Clint pulled in heaving breaths as deeply as he could manage with the tight webbing of ropes constricting his body. Before he could fully regain his breath, something hot and wet dragged up the length of his flaccid cock, making him flinch violently and cry out.

Still breathing heavily, Clint tried to puzzle out what in the actual fuck was going on. There wasn’t much that he _did_ know. Whoever ‘they’ were hadn’t even asked him any questions; just strapped him to a wall and let him be. What he did know was that Bucky would get him out of it. Bucky always came for him.

The rope tightened again before Clint’s breathing had a chance to even out. This time, he almost immediately began fighting his restraints, but it only lasted a few seconds before slackening again.

Gasping in as deeply as he could around the gag, Clint wasn’t prepared for the same wet heat to completely engulf his now half hard cock. His breath hitched too soon, making him choke again, but the feeling around him didn’t let up.

Someone was on the other side of the wall, giving him a blow job. What the fuck kind of torture was this? _Who_ the fuck was willing to do this as a form of torture?

The mouth pulled back, suckling around the head of his cock, making him fight the ropes holding his hips. Clint was still trying his best to catch his breath when the mystery person started trying to literally suck his brains out through his dick. The way that mouth was wrapped so tightly around him, with enough suction to almost hurt, the sensation was bordering on just the wrong side of painful.

Before he could even begin to come to terms with everything happening, his cock had fully hardened and the mouth on the other side of the wall took him down completely. His breathing stuttered and he couldn’t hold his hips still as his cock met the back of the person’s throat.

The moan that ripped out of him was certain to be heard in the next city over. Whoever was on the other side of the wall knew what they were doing and didn’t seem to need to breathe.

Deep, rolling waves of heat flowed through Clint’s gut. He stuttered out a series of staccato breaths, unable to control the movement of his hips. The heat kept building and building, pulling out small whines from behind Clint’s ball gag.

He gave another series of half thrusts when the mouth left him all together, leaving Clint gasping, his cock chilled and bobbing uselessly in the air.

Clint was struggling to process the sensational whiplash when the rope tightened again, completely cutting off his already vain attempts to breathe.

Sputtering and choking to gain even one good lungful of air, Clint struggled, opening fresh wounds on his wrists, ankles, and now neck.

Lungs burning and spots dancing across his vision, Clint barely registered the mouth returning to his straining cock. Given the pattern the past few times this had happened, Clint fully expected the rope to slacken and allow him to breath. However, the ropes _did not_ slacken and continued to deny him precious air.

The suction on his dick increased and the rope around his neck held any fresh air at bay. It quickly became too much, the burning deep in his chest and gut were dueling for top spot in the forefront of his mind. His need to breathe twinning with the need to come made it so he was unable to stop his twitching and straining muscles.

The rope loosened and, as he pulled in a fresh draught of cool, damp air, a rising tide of arousal rose in his gut. The mouth held firm around his cock, pulling every coherent thought from Clint’s head before he could even determine what it was going to be.

His hips bucked against the ropes and his breathing stuttered, pushing more drool out around the ball gag. The long cold strands of his own spittle dripping from his chin onto his shoulder barely registered against the mouth bobbing up and down his length and the throat that constricted over the head of his cock.

If he could, Clint would be frantically shaking his head in a vain attempt to deny the pleasure building up within him. Whatever the reason these guys picked for using this method of torture was well beyond Clint, especially given his current level of thinking. Instead, he only managed a few twitches and more disgruntled moans.

With the way that he was panting around the gag, he was starting to get light headed again. His knees would’ve given out at this point if it weren’t for the fact that he was strapped so securely to the rough wall. He twisted his wrists in their bindings, knowing that it would further aggravate the wounds he’d already opened up there, but the sharp stinging pain was the only thing he could think of that might be able to ground him and help him ignore the talented and intent person on the other side of the wall.

God, it felt just as good as when Bucky would tell Clint to stay still and then take him apart. How on Earth was he supposed to fight this? And what would Bucky think of him, getting off on a fucking torture blow job? Latching onto the thought, Clint continued the spiraling train of thought to fight against the pleasure ripping through him.

It seemed to be working. Slowly, Clint’s breathing was evening out, and he was able to stop his feeble hip thrusts. Closing his eyes, he kept twisting his wrists until he was able to hold every other part of his body still. He could hold out until Bucky came for him, which should be any minute now. 

_Any minute._

Clint had just finally been able to push those glorious sensations aside and focus on everything else when the rope pulled tight once more. This time, he was able to hold a stoic demeanor as the seconds ticked by and he might’ve been able to maintain it until the mystery person fucking _hummed_ around his cock. Reflexively, he tried to inhale through his nose, only to choke and gag as the air stopped short. Clint grunted as his brain completely short circuited. It felt as though every bit of ground that he’d regained in giving in was completely undone in less than a minute.

Abruptly, the rope loosened. Clint gasped desperately for air for a moment before the person hummed again, making him gasp and choke again. That talented mouth took him in fully until the head of his cock hit the back of their throat and they held it. Panting, Clint fought to hold back the growing heat deep within him but it was all getting to be too much.

The short, stuttering pants were cut off as the rope tightened again. Clint thrashed and struggled, completely mindless and without thought of how he must look. All he knew was that he didn’t want to come like this, in this dank cell, strapped to wall with his dick hanging out on the other side of a fucking board. 

His lungs burned and ached, an all too familiar feeling now. Familiar still didn’t mean wanted though, much like the stellar blow job he was getting. 

Soon, the need for air was overriding the sensation of his cock being engulfed and his thrashing became even more frantic. There had been a pattern to this: cut off his air long enough to scare him, then give him amazing pleasure. Now Clint was struggling to accept that both were happening at once.

Thick streams of spit continued to ooze out of his open mouth as he fought for air, now just a footnote in all the other sensations he was experiencing. The entire situation had Clint reeling. Their lack of questions, or communication in general, was as unsettling as the forced blow job.

The slow build of heat at the base of his spine continued to expand, as did the fiery burn in his lungs, making his entire body shake and glisten with a layer of sweat and grime. For anyone looking at him from this side, not knowing the entire predicament, he probably looked pathetic and weak; trembling in fear at the mere prospect of being held captive.

This would be one hell of a way to die. 

Just as the thought passed through his mind, the rope loosened around his throat, flooding him with air he so desperately needed. Apparently it was the cue his body was waiting for, because the heat that had continued to build deep in the pits of his body suddenly bloomed, completely encompassing him and burning through any attempt at coherent thought. Every muscle in his body tensed and he cried out as he came violently into the eager mouth on the other side.

Clint’s muscles gave out all at once, his body sagging in the bonds holding him. The rope digging viciously into his abused flesh barely registered in the afterglow.

By the time anything resembling an actual thought had come back to him, he found he wasn’t against the wall anymore. His lungs were still drawing in desperate pulls of air, as though he’d run for miles on end. His mouth was dry and his lips cracked as his tongue peeked out in a futile attempt to wet them again. Blinking owlishly, he brought his still numb hand to his face to wipe the sweat and drool from it.

It hit him: his body was no longer restrained. He was completely free and laying on the cold cement floor. Instantly, he rolled to the side and gathered his wobbly knees under him. Whoever it was that had gotten a hold of him was foolish to think that an orgasm - even one as intense as that - would take him down for the count had better be prepared for a harsh correction.

On his knees with his hands raised, Clint snarled and glared at whatever hapless goon had been sent to deal with him. Just as he was about to lunge, Clint registered who was actually in front of him.

Crouched down and balanced on tip toes, Natasha emanated an air of control and calm as she watched him. Her wrists rested on corresponding knees, idly playing with the blade of the knife that had freed Clint only moments before.

“Sorry to break up your recreational time Barton,” she said with a hint of a smile in her voice. “But you’re needed back at Avengers Tower. James would be completely unbearable without you around.”

As soon as the words filtered through his flight or fight state of mind, Clint snorted and dropped his hands, forcing his muscles to relax. He couldn’t help the tremor that still rattled his frame, but with Natasha here, he finally felt as though he could breathe.

“What the hell took you so long?” he couldn’t help but gripe, his voice hoarse.

Natasha didn’t respond beyond standing with an eye roll and throwing a small bundle of fabric at him.

“Oh, you are a beautiful and caring woman, no matter what anyone says about you,” Clint practically moaned into the pants as he briefly pressed them into his face and shook them out before standing and sliding them over his abused skin.

“Barton,” Natasha said, a warning in her tone. “Nobody says anything bad about me but you.”

He grinned at her as he pulled his shirt over his head. “I stand by what I said.”

Somehow managing to make a snort sound delicate, Natasha threw another bundle at him.

He fumbled to catch it with only one arm properly through this shirt. Looking down at the glossy metal, Clint moaned again, ignoring the pain in his throat. She’d found his bow and quiver.

“You are a Goddess among mortal men and we should all bow at your feet.”

“You’ll regret saying those words out loud to me,” she said, watching him jam his feet into his boots. “Now come on; Bucky is the next room over and I’m sure he’s less than comfortable stuck on his knees.”

Clint froze mid-step at her announcement. Surely, she meant the room on the other side. There was no way… 

Everything clicked into place. Good lord. Bucky had been the one forced to give him a blow job.Of course it had been Bucky, they’d been paired together during the mission, keeping an eye on everyone from afar. Now the strangulation tactic made sense: it hadn’t really been for him, it had been an incentive for Bucky. _Blow him or he dies._ It was likely that the Hydra operatives holding refused to tell him it was Clint on the other side of the wall. They needed some way to force him into action. Clint groaned as it all crashed down on him.

“Oh Jesus fuck. This is gonna turn into one of those ‘we have to discuss things’ kind of night, isn’t it?” he asked the empty room before stomping out of the to free his boyfriend. This was going to be a helluva night.

**Author's Note:**

> Yo! I'm on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/harishe-art) Come take a look!
> 
> I'm also on discord! Harishe#6556  
> Come join us on the [Discord server](https://discord.gg/6ywkFQBVGs) that hosted the event!


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